If You Just Sing Along Then No One Gets Hurt
by kelkie
Summary: A humourous romp through the land of wizarding England. Enjoy the dangers, the laughs and image of Harry Potter in tutu, blonde strangers and, as in any good story random bouts of song.... Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: This is all just a bit of silliness, really. :-D. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter One: Death Eaters Rock.

Imagine; if you will, a dusty abandoned old road in England. A stray tumbleweed came slowly across the road in front of a dark mans' shadow.

"Pettigrew!" the man called out to his servant, whom had been voted as the winner of the LYMIDS (Loyalist Yet Most Ineffective and Dimwitted Servant) award five times in a row.  
"Yes, Master!" A sniveling worm, or, one should say, rat, of a man appeared in front of his all powerful master.

"I am ready." The dark man glared at his servant. "You do know what that means, don't you?"

"Of course, m'lord. But…" Peter Pettigrew squirmed slightly. "I am not entirely comfortable with this, Oh Great Evilness. I haven't done anything like this in such a long time."

"I do not care!" Roared Lord Voldemort, whom you all should have already managed to guessed it was, with all the imagery slapping you in the face.  
"Very good, m'lord." Pettigrew bowed, sloppily, before running into the abandoned P.O to assemble the remaining Death Eaters chosen for this very special task.

"Pettigrew!" Voldemort roared once again. "I am ready…now! And we all know that now means Now!"

"Yes, m'lord," squeaked Pettigrew weakly, from inside the post office. "We are coming, m'lord."  
Lord Voldemort clapped his decrepit hands together, giddily. Then, he giggled. "Goody!" If you have never had the pleasure of hearing a Dark Lord giggle then you ought to consider yourself blessed. For me to even attempt to describe it to you will would cause your eyes to pop from their eye sockets, your ear drums will burst and your espohagus will strangle you, all in a desperate attempt to save you from your own foolish stupidity.

Slowly, and by slowly I mean as slow as the eagerest person on death row, Peter Pettigrew and Lucius Malfoy exited the building in bright purple, sequined, matching Disco outfits. Lucius Malfoy was holding onto a shinging golden chain. With a tug of the chain he revealed the supposedly deceased character, Sirius Black, whose feet and hands were chained together with this golden link. He, too, was dressed in a spectacular sparkly get-up.

"I don't understand why you're forcing me to do this!" screeched the godfather of the great Harry Potter. "I'd rather be dead again than have to do this! Just kill me! Kill me now! I don't want to live!"

Lucius Malfoy gave another tug on Sirius' leash. "Shut up, you, this is a great honour. We get to serve our great and bored leader!"

Sirius rolled his eyes, and for that, Lucius Malfoy gave another harsh tug on the leash. "Watch it, you," growled Sirius, "I bite.".  
"Eh-hem" interrupted the Dark Lord.  
"Oh, yes…" muttered Pettigrew before assuming his place out of the spotlight, on the drums which had materialized on the pavement beside the main road.  
"Yes!" Lucius said as he played a quick rift on the bright yellow electric guitar he was now holding in his hands. The guitar may have clashed horribly with his outfit, but it matched Sirius's chain beautifully.  
"This sucks," spat Sirius as his arms were unchained and he was given custody of a dark blue base guitar. Whether he was referring to being part of the Death Eaters band or being given the part of base, no one will ever know.  
Voldemort stood smack dab in the center of the very empty road. "Wait! I almost forgot," he said, grinning fiendishly. With a wave of his wand and a brief spell, his dark cloaks were transformed into a bright red sequined outfit. His stringy black hair was pushed into a mohawk and he was standing at least a foot taller thanks to some very stylish Vivienne Westwood platform shoes. "Ready!" he shouted. He pointed his skeletal finger at Pettigrew.  
"A One…A Two…A One Two Three Four!" Pettigrew shouted. The  
beat began.  
Lucius started plucking away skillfully on his guitar.  
Sirius groaned but began to strum the base slowly.  
Then, Voldemort began to sing:

"I walk a lonely road  
The only one that I have ever known  
The only place it can go  
Is toward the Chamber that I call my home  
I apparate around  
On the boulevard of broken dreams  
where the death eaters are sound  
but I'm the only one and I walk alone  
I walk alone I walk alone  
I walk alone and I walk a-

My minions are the only ones that walk beside me  
My evil plans are the only things that guide me  
Sometimes I just wish for Potter to find me  
Till then I walk alone

I'm getting closer now  
Towards the final fight that's soon to come  
And then we will decide whether or not  
I walk alone  
Read between the lines  
I'll crucio you till everything's alright  
Peter, check my vital signs to make sure that I am still alive.  
And I walk alone  
I walk alone I walk alone  
I walk alone and I walk a-

My minions are the only ones that walk beside me  
My evil plans are the only things that guide me  
Sometimes I just wish for Potter to find me  
Till then I walk alone."

At this point Lucius took on an extreme power jam. Voldemort glared at him evilly. "Avada Kedrava!" he screeched, angry at his minion for taking up his spotlight. He grinned as Lucius fell dead on the spot. Sirius, whose chain had been held by Lucius, began to hop away slowly, not because he had a bunny fetish, but because his feet were still chained together. Sirius would never be one to have a bunny fetish. Never. And, he would be eager to correct anyone who ever came to that deplorable assumption. No bunny fetishes for Sirius, he never ever had a paticulary torrid affair with a bunny named Foo Foo.

"Not so fast you!" Voldemort said, pointing towards Sirius, "Petrificus Totalus". The only beat left was Pettigrew on the drums and Voldemort frowned once more. He pointed his wand towards Peter and shrugged. "Stupefy." He then turned back towards the microphone which was, of course, in the center of the street, and sang a cappella:

"I don't need anyone  
I can fight this battle on my own  
I'll torture and I'll kill and sure as hell I know  
I walk alone  
Don't get in my way  
If you do I may have to say good bye  
You cannot stay if you threaten me  
I will survive  
So I walk alone I walk alone  
I walk alone and I walk a-"

Voldemort grinned, once more, and screeched into the microphone, "Alone!" Before bursting into maniacal laughter. "It's good to be evil," he said to himself before calling on some of his less mentally inclined, but very strong, Death Eaters to pick up the  
remainder of his band. He shouted out to Percy Weasley. "Did you get that on tape?"  
Percy nodded his head. "Yes, sir. It is all right here, I have it on Witch-O-Vision, DVD, VHS, and, oh yes, there are multiple photos with sound chips." Suddenly Percy's personality switched from intellectual snob to stoner hippie, "Thanks for the gig, man. I've been needing this. Ever since Fudgie and Pops caught me smokin' at the office I've been up a creek without a paddle, if you know what I mean, man."  
Voldemort rolled his eyes and swatted Percy Weasley swiftly on the back of his head, "You good?" he asked the newly initiated Death Eater.  
"Yes, Sir!" replied Percy with a smart salute.  
Voldemort smiled, he liked the idea of a salute. He pondered silently about whether he should get rid of the practice of having all Death Eaters kneel at his feet and kiss the hems of his robes for a more regal salute. But he shook the idea out of him. He knew how disappointed Pettigrew and Crabbe and Goyle would be if they weren't  
allowed to kiss his robes, it was the most action those Death Eaters  
ever got.

* * *

A/N So that's Chapter 1. I have chapter 2 and 3 written- I'm just going over them now. I hope you'll come back and read those too! I also hope that you give my ego a little boost and review! Thanks! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nada!

A/N: Much love for the review…. And the marriage proposal blush! to Kielo. Enjoy chapter 2 everybody!

Chapter 2: Harry the (Very Pretty) Ballerina

Harry Potter, with his floppy brown hair, doleful blue eyes and oversized glasses was moping about at the bar. He was staring intently into his drink. "Gin!" he called out, in a slightly slurred voice. "Gin!" he repeated.

The barmaid wandered over to him, with her hands on her hips and an evil glare in her oh so sparky eyes. "What do you want, Harry?" Ginny Weasley asked her highly intoxicated customer.

"There seems," Harry garbled, "to be something unu…unus…unushual, unushuel, unusual in my drink." Harry smiled at his ability to finally pronounce the relatively simple word correctly. For him, and his inebriated state, it was a large accomplishment.  
"Harry," Ginny said, with a sigh. "That is ice. You are drinking a gin 'n tonic. Those come with ice."

Harry smiled brightly, showing his pearly white teeth. "Whad'ha you talking about Gin? I'm not drinking you…silly. Silly Ginny," he said while giggling profusely and tossing his hand haphazardly in Ginny's general vicinity. Thankfully, Harry's arm stayed firmly attatched to his body, otherwise there would be no controlling where that arm could have been flung to.  
Ginny sighed, once more. Then she grimaced because she realized she couldn't find anything more interesting to do than sigh and contemplate how peaceful life would be if Harry didn't come into the bar every night whinging about how he hasn't managed to kill Lord Voldemort yet, and how Lord Voldemort has started a successful West End musical, and how the only thing that Harry had left going for himself was coming to Ginny's bar and whining about life in general. Apparently it was a very fullfilling exercise for Harry. Ginny couldn't completely see the merit in it, but she didn't mind the income boost his many visits to her bar provided her. However, even she had her limits.   
"I'm cutting you off, Harry," she said as she turned her back on the Boy-Who-Lived and returned to her space behind the bar. Ginny ran the Hell's Retreat. A cozy little bar with an evil little name. Suddenly, a cold gust of wind blew through the bar conveniently interrupting any description of the bar that was going to occur. Accompanying the gust of wind was a tall stranger in a dark trench coat with a fedora placed intriguingly over one eye. Tufts of platinum blonde hair could be seen peeking out of from beneath the new customer's hat. He strolled up to the bar and took a seat on a barstool, a small distance away from Harry.  
While this new customer was slowly taking off his leather gloves, Ginny's hired help started shouting out to her, "Ginny! Ginny!"

One paticularly rambunctions new hiree shouted out, her name was Mindy, or Maxie or something equally peppie. Either way, she probably wasn't going to be working at Gin's bar for very long.  
. "What?" Ginny said, pointedly looking at the soon to be fired for an indeterminable reason girl.

"It's nine-o-clock," she whispered.  
Ginny brightened up considerably. "Hey, Ron!" she shouted out, and immediately Ron appeared at the bar with Luna and Hermione in tow.

"What fun!" exclaimed Luna.

"For Merlin's sake," muttered Hermione.

Ron looked around anxiously. "Why doesn't Harry have to do it?" he asked, quite upset about the entire predicament he found himself in.

"Because Harry is currently struggling with a very persuasive drink," said Ginny with a smile. Service with a smile was always her best skill. Ginny muttered something and waved her wand in a very lyrical manner. "Perfect," she said. Her crew had been transformed. Loony Luna's blonde hair was braided into two long tails and she was wearing large bell-bottom jeans with a black top. She was suddenly seated on a piano stool in front of a keyboard and she seemed quite pleased towards the entire predicament.  
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. She had a tambourine in one hand and a cowbell in the other and she was dressed in an atrocious yellow and red print dress with a yellow headband in her unruly hair. "Is it over yet?" she asked to woever was listening. When no one answered, she opened her eyes very slowly. "Damn," she said as she surveyed her new apparel. The two instruments in her possession earned two separate and equally foul swear words from Hermione's usually placid tongue.

Ron's hair was spiked, in a way that no one can quite visualize unless they consider a photograph of a red Barney. Basically, it wasn't good. But Ron felt mighty cocky about it, and that is all that matters in show buisness. He had a guitar in his hands and an akward smile on his face.

Ginny was sitting on the edge of her bar with a microphone in hand and her apron was transformed into a slinky green dress. She suddenly was looking extremely glamarous and much more attractive than any of the members of her back-up band.

"Go…" Ginny whispered sultrily into her mike. The music started, Hermione began shaking the tambourine out of beat, earning her multiple evil glares from both Ginny and Luna.  
And in a second Ginny began to sing: 

"Oh it's nine o'clock on a Saturday  
The regular crowd shuffles in  
There's an young man sitting next me  
Makin' love to his tonic and gin.  
He says, "Son can you play me a memory  
I'm not really sure how it goes  
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete  
When I wore a younger man's clothes."

Ginny put the microphone down and strolled among her customers, brushing their hair with her fingertips, or flipping their collars gently. While she did, Ron and Luna picked up the intermittent humming: 

"Da da da de de da  
Da da da de de da  
Da da"

Ginny picked the mike back up and glared at Luna and Ron who instantly dropped vocals and allowed Ginny to continue on with the showcase of her talents. While she was singing she caught eye contact with the mysterious stranger and seemed to be singing to him for the rest of the song:

"Sing us a song you're the new guy  
Sing us a song tonight  
You're different and mysterious, anyway  
And, to me, that's always alright.  
Now Harry at the bar is a friend of mine  
He's plastered straight on his ass  
Tomorrow he'll wake up with a headache  
Feeling like the dog's breakfast  
He'll say "Ginny, darling, another round"  
He's got nowhere to else to be.  
Because Voldemort's not quite dead yet.  
He's sure that he'll kill Tommy one day  
But tomorrow is definitely not it.

Sing us a song you're the new guy  
Sing us a song tonight  
You're different and mysterious, anyway  
And, to me, that's always alright.  
Now, Ron over there is my brother dear,  
He's never had time for Hermy.  
He's flirting with Luna and Dean and Seamus  
He's got something he's not telling me.  
The waitress is workin' on her resume  
She soon won't be working 'round here  
Those guys who all hang out at in this place  
Hell's Retreat, the bar full of bums,  
Are all drinking a drink they call loneliness  
But it's better then drinking alone  
They're all comin' here to relax for a spell  
And forget about life for awhile.  
And the bar smells like an alley  
And the cups haven't been washed in a year  
And the customers are all fat slobs-  
God, I wish I wasn't here.  
Da da da de de da  
Da da da de de da  
Da da  
Sing us a song you're the new guy  
Sing us a song tonight  
You're different and mysterious anyway  
And, hell, that's always alright."

With a smile and a wink Ginny ended her set, never taking her eyes off of the handsome stranger. Ron was grimacing. "Gin! Gin, why'd you have to go and say that about me? Now Hermy is going to be pissed at me again. Thanks a lot, Gin. Why do feel the need  
to ruin a perfectly good marriage?" Ginny just waved off his complaints without a care, still focusing very intently on the man who was now standing right in front of her. The mysterious stranger took her hand in his and gently kissed it. She could only barely hear Ron in the background, crying out, "Hermione! I love you! It was just a song!"

"Enchanted, Mademoiselle." The mysterious, blonde haired, grey eyed, gaunt, son of a well-known yet now deceased Death Eater said. Ginny giggled and began twirling a stray piece of her fiery red hair around her finger.  
"Ginny?" one of her employees shouted out to her.  
"I'm busy!" Ginny shouted back through a tight mouthed grin.  
The unnamed, yet very well described man coughed slightly to cover his laughter.  
"But Ginny!" The employee's voice came shouting back.  
"Not now, I'm with a customer!" yelled Ginny, who never broke eye contact with the once Slytherin prefect turned mysterious stranger.  
"But, Ginny, we can't find Harry!" yelled the employee desperately.  
"Damn!" she said. "You," she said, pointing to the stranger whose eyes she had been staring into for at least five minutes. "Stay right here. I will be right back." She headed off towards where Harry had been sitting all the while muttering "God damn Harry. Boy-Who-Lived. Pshaw. He's going to be the boy-who-wished-he-hadn't-lived when I'm through with him." She headed out the front door and proceeded to call for Harry like one calls for a lost dog that no one in the family really liked: half-heartedly and bitterly.  
Inside an entirely different scene was taking place. Harry was not as lost as the employees had assumed. Indeed he had, with Ginny gone, now assumed center stage in the bar and was about to proceed with his own special magical musical number. "Hello  
audiece...audiene…audi…people!" he said with a bright wave and a tipsy bow. "I am going to dance for you. I am a ballirine…ballriny….ballaria, dancer. A pretty pretty dancer," he ammended when he found ballerina too difficult to pronounce.  
He waved his wand and said a tiny spell, in slurred speech. And, as we all know, it is never safe to drink and spell, yet Harry had forgotten this golden rule and so thus, he ended up in the middle of the bar in a bright pink tutu with a bright pink hair band in his black scruffy hair. A track of classical music from Swan Lake was playing in the  
background and Harry was dancing, quite extraordinarily unsuccessfully. Yet, despite his idiotic nature he was grinning brightly and waving at the burly men and flighty woman who were all drinking their beers at the bar.  
"Damn Harry," Ginny was still muttering as she made her way back into her establishment. She screeched as she saw Harry dancing in his own peculiar topsy-turvy manner, and Colin Creevey standing near by documenting each second of the embarrassing escapade. Colin managed to stuff a five pound note down the waist band of Harry's tutu before Ginny managed to grab Harry's arm and pull him off the stage. As she rushed past the mysterious, strange, unusual, hot man she gave him a wink before pushing Harry into the back room of the bar and forcefully detaining him against his will.

Well, that's all for now, folks! Please please please review (it's a spark of joy in my day!) Chapter 3 will be up soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own it so don't sue me, I'd have no money to give you anyway.

A/N: Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Not all Memories are Good Memories.

Harry Potter was in pain. He had made the mistake of standing up very quickly and in doing so he had hit his head against the roof of the tiny broom cupboard he was currently stuffed in. "Ugh," grunted Harry, reverting to his original simian self. He rubbed his forehead and grunted again. He seemed to be having a very difficult time putting letters together to form words. He hadn't even considered attempting to put those words back into their proper sentences. It just wasn't a viable possibility at the moment. Right now, he was quite happy to grunt and gorand and pound on the, unfortunately, locked door of the small room.

He was trying to maneuver into a more comfortable position but the room (aka cupboard) was so confined that his rather unruly elbow shot out and hit a misplaced shelf which, equally unfortunately, happened to have a misplaced object on it. He jumped, as high as it was possible to jump in a chamber with no excess space, as he saw the misplaced object, a small, sparkling, glass bowl, fall to the ground. He cringed, preparing himself for the glorious crash. He was tempted to sigh disappointedly when the crash refused to come. Instead the bowl hit the floor with a dull thud.

He knelt down and picked up the bowl gently. It looked rather like a fishbowl, except there was an odd viscous liquid swirling about inside it. He examined the bowl and saw that it was the proud owner of two very interesting features. Carved into the glass were the words: 'So long and thanks.' Knowing full well that those words belonged to an entirely different story that Harry had no wish to crossover into, he promptly moved on. He focused, instead, on the other interesting feature: a name written in black marker on masking tape that was stuck to the bowl. The name caused Harry to gasp. The name caused Harry to quiver and to nearly burst out in tears. The name was that of his supposedly deceased godfather who had recently partaken in a jam session with some rather persuasive Death Eaters. The name was Sirius Black.

Harry knew that he only had one option. While he was unhappily locked in this cupboard he knew there was only one thing he could do to occupy his time. He would delve into Sirius' beloved memories. It wasn't that he was nosy or anything of the sort. He was simply bored. But, if you ever asked him why he went through Sirius' memory he will say that it was calling to him, which is simply not true. It is positvely and conclusively impossible for an inanimate entity that does not entirely exist, such as a memory, to call, beckon or seduce anyone. Except for that one time in Vegas, but what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Harry dipped one finger into the liquid and soon he was a wandering phantom in the memory of the ex-Azkaban escapee Sirius Black.

Sirius was standing by his friends, James and Remus. They were all teenagers. Their hair was floppy and messy and their eyes were full of excitement and tales of misadventure. As they were speaking in hushed tones about their next attempt to cause more trouble than Peeves on April Fools' Day, the obviously evil Peter Pettigrew showed up.  
"Hello, all!" he said, cheerfully, in his sniveling, whiny, horribly disconcerting voice. His left eye twitched as he spoke and his mouth curled up at the edges. His ears were even just a tad bit too pointy. He was obviously evil. Without a single doubt.  
"Hey," the three innocent marauders said back to him.

All four went back to happily discussing plands for transporting a large amount of dragon dung onto the front steps of Hogwarts and then lighting it on fire and ringing the doorbell.

As they were listening to James come up with the grand details of the misdemeanor, Remus and Sirius slipped out of the group discussion and began whispering to one another. "Why do we put up with him?" Sirius asked Remus, with a nod of his head in the direction of the very, supremely, completely evil Peter Pettigrew.

"Because," replied Remus, rather blandly.

"Because, why?" said the unconvinced and unsatisfied Sirius Black.

"Because, we are family!" said Remus, with a smile and an annoyingly cute wave of his wand.

In an instant the stage was set. Remus and James were sharing a mike in the center of the stage, Peter was back on drums and Sirius and an electric guitar in his hands. The four were wearing matching outfits, complete with matching blue beanies.

James began singing; he was smiling arrogantly as he sang.  
The women, who had appeared in the audience, put ear plugs in their ears, but took off their sunglasses in order to get a better look at the stud, who couldn't quite catch the tune, or the pitch, or the melody.

"We are family  
I got all my Marauders with me.  
We are family  
Get up everybody and illegally learn how to turn into an animagus!" 

Remus groaned, "cut the music." The music came to a stuttering stop. "James, that does not work. It doesn't rhyme. It doesn't even sound good."

James just smiled arrogantly and ran his hand through his hair.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" asked Remus, annunciating each word, and punctuating them too.  
James grinned and shook his head up and down and then side to side.  
Remus sighed, "James, here." He handed James a bongo drum that had just appeared. "Play this, buddy. There's a good James," James, happily sated and grinning arrogantly, went off to play with his new toy.

Remus, as the sole lead singer smiled and said, "hit it!" The music roared back up and Remus restarted the entire song; he had a suprisingly good voice for a werewolf. Not that we should discriminate against werewolves in the music industry, I just assumed that they'd have gravely voices, and insert a few barks in the song every few measures. Apparently that is an incorrect assumption.

"We are family  
I got all my Marauders with me  
We are family  
Get up everybody and spell!

Everyone can see that we're together.  
As we walk by  
And we all can turn into animals  
I won't tell no lie.  
All the teachers around us they say  
Will they ever learn?  
Just let me state for the record  
We'll always be this immature!

We are family  
I got all my Marauders with me  
We are family  
Get up everybody and spell!

Living life is fun and we've just begun  
To get our share of the world's delights  
We'll run all over Hogsmede  
We'll rule the school  
We will terrorize Snapey  
That's are golden rule!  
We will sneak all around here  
And never get caught  
The teachers all love us, and we are so hot!

We are family  
I got all my Marauders with me!  
We are family  
Get up everybody and spell!"

With another wave of Remus's wand everything was back to normal and the four men were sitting beneath the tree again. Harry, beginning to grow restless and bored, looked down and realized he was wearing a tutu, apparently from the night before. He groaned. However, the groan was completely unrelated to his attire. He actually felt quite carefree and comfortable in the little pink tutu. He groaned because he saw more charecters entering the memory.  
From just beyond the foggy reaches of the pensieve a very put-out young Severus Snape entered the scene, as did a certain young Lily Evans.

"No! You are not allowed to burst into song randomly on Hogwarts grounds. I could report you to the head for that!" sniveled Severus.

"Snivilus! You keep your great greasy gob out of this. We can do whatever we want," James said, then pushing his chest out and striking a pose, he continued, "we are the Marauders."

"What the hell are the the marauders?" whispered Snape to himself.

James looked down at himself anxiously. "Oh dear, did I forget the rubber outfit?"

Suddenly, Lily hurried over. "You big meanies! Leave Severus alone, there is nothing wrong with him. Why are you four always so irritating?" she said, shaking her finger at them.

The four boys ran to stand at military formation and sheepishly waved at her. Severus remained skulking next to her. "I don't need your protection, mudblood," he sneered, before grabbing Peter by the wrist and pulling him away from the group. "Dumbledore wants to see you," he said as an excuse. As Peter, whom I don't paticularly like so I decided to get rid of in a non-violent manner, exited Sirius' memory Sirius, being the big ladies man he is, slithered up next to Lily and put his hand on her shoulder.

How you doin', Evans?" he asked in a deep voice that was falsely advertising his goods.

"Good Black, real good," she said. She sneered and with a light touch of her hand to his she managed to grab onto his arm and fling him over her shoulder. He landed with a thud flat on his back. She walked over to him and put her foot lightly on his chest. "What would you know, I'm feeling even better now, Black."

Remus smiled bashfully. "Good show, Evans," he said as he moved to help his fallen comrade.

James smiled arrongantly. Lily looked at him, waved her hand in front of his face a few times and then turned to Remus and whispered, "is he actually in there?"

Remus shrugged. "We may never know," he admitted.

"Ah, it's okay though. He is just so dreamy and strong-willed and I think we should joing the Order, get married, and have a kid who will be described as looking exactly like him, except with my eyes, of course."

"Of course," agreed Remus.  
James shook his head. He was dangerously close to looking like a plastic bobble-head toy. Lily leaned in and kissed him, which was a completely logical progression from the earlier yelling. This was a language James understood, however. He shooed away the two other boys. Who, instead of actually leaving, just hid in a bush where they were able to get front row seats to the show. However, the very skilled James Potter was a masterful multitasker. As he held Lily in one arm and ravished her to no end, he also was pulling off one of his sneakers which he threw towards the hiding boys. It hit Sirius square in the head and he blacked out. The memory faded away and once again Harry was sitting in the small closet.

The two consolations Harry was left with were that: One, Snape had always been an annoying little twit; and Two, he finally knew where he was. He realized that he was in a locked cupboard in the back of Hell's Retreat, Gin's badly in need of a makeover bar.

He decided that he definitely needed to ask Ginny some questions. The ones most prominently in his mind were how the hell did she get his godfathers' memory and how the hell had he ended up in a, quite cute, little, pink tutu? 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed that chapter! I enjoyed writing it. Coming up next; Magical: The Story of a Boy and His Dark Powers; Luna judging the kissing skill of a certain mysterious blonde haired stranger; and Big Papa V and Filchs' unspoken love….

Please review!!!!!


End file.
